


Careless

by schierlingsbecher



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: (partly) surgeon rick, Blood, Dubious Consent, Gore, Incest, Insults, M/M, Minor Character Death, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, mention of alcohol abuse, might also be seen as, seriously this is kinda dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6375145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schierlingsbecher/pseuds/schierlingsbecher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morty finds himself strapped to a table, barely conscious. Only the voice that talks in a gruff tone seems familiar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Careless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The two mentioned in the notes](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+two+mentioned+in+the+notes).



> (NOT revised, please tell me if there are any mistakes of any sort)  
> Inspired by [this drawing](http://itami-salami.tumblr.com/post/140055369402/health-check-by-itami-salami-i-had-this-thought) and therefore written for [Alexander S.](http://alexander-salamander.tumblr.com/) and [Volde M.](http://volde-morty.tumblr.com/), both incredibly kind, affectionate people, who I fell in love with in a matter of days.  
> I love both of you guys! ♥

Darkness enveloped him; deep, thick nothingness.

His mind felt dizzy and spun in slow circles, tilting ever so often and pulling him down, a bit deeper into the void.

 _Where am I?_ his voice arose from the back of his mind, running over him in a murmur. The darkness seemed to lighten just the tiniest bit. _What… happened to me?_

His mind struggled as he searched for an answer in his brain, coming up only with shreds of memories that were too bright to make any sense. He shivered and the black around him became grey. A sharp scent tickled over his skin, covering him in goose bumps and made his breath hitch. He felt cold. And exposed. His eyes blinked against something bright, painting the world in white light.

His back hurt, as well as his head and knees, an aching strain in his joints.

His throat felt hoarse and dry, so he coughed as best as he could, still blinking against the brightness that hurt his eyes after the deep darkness.

“Whe-“

“ _Where amI?_ You’re with me, ‘s wheEERRRGHere you are. No need to know more than that,” a rough, bored voice gave back.

He flinched at the familiar sound, his mind running a mile a minute to place it. Narrowing his eyes to focus, a figure appeared in his sight – fuzzy around the edges, the bright light forming a stinging halo. Mixed emotions bubbled up in his unconsciousness, fear and rage and relief and joy and… panic. His skin prickled as the swirl of feeling took over his thoughts and suddenly the voice had a name.

“Rick…”

“Yep,” the voice answered dryly. Morty blinked a few times to focus his eyes on the silhouette. His usually messy hair was held back by some sort of cap and he was missing his signature lab coat. Instead, he was wearing something that looked like a scrub and a white apron.

He squirmed, feeling cold. The headache worsened. As soon as he moved he felt restraints around him, pulled way too tight, cutting into his skin and he groaned, cold leather sending shivers up and down his spine. He realized he was naked. “Where am I? What- What happened?”

The only response he got was an annoyed groan and Morty looked up at the familiar face of his grandfather.

“Already told you, you little dipshit,” he murmured under his breath, reaching for something on a small table next to him. His eyes closed for a moment as the light reflected brightly from the gadget, cutting sharply through his field of vision.

His blood ran cold.

His hands started trembling.

An icy weight dropped into his stomach and a knot formed in his throat.

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t speak.

His eyes went wide and he stared at Rick helplessly, cold sweat running down his temples and neck.

"Uhh- uh, Rick," he squeaked, eyes wide and fixed on the blade, "Is, is that a knife? I-I-I think that's a knIFE RICK."

Panic rose in his chest and set his blood on fire, his skin crawling with fear as Rick moved the small scalpel closer. He followed the motion with his eyes, looking down at his bare torso still strapped onto that table. He squirmed and struggled against the bonds but it was no use. “RICK PLEASE YOU’RE GONNA HURT ME PLEASE-“

The blade touched him and Morty screamed. Everything else went dull. He watched how the sharp metal pressed into his skin and opened his stomach, a fine red line blooming on his body, unfurling to a wider cut and deepening until he saw more crimson glisten and run down his pale skin. He started shivering uncontrollably at the sight. A gloved hand was pressed to his chest to keep him down, but his eyes were fixed in horror, his breath shallow and not enough to sustain his body. He felt light-headed. His fists clenched so hard he felt the pain of his fingernails in his palms. But… that was it.

Now that he felt the slight stinging in his hands, he noticed the actual lack of pain. The cut wasn’t hurting. No hot glowing, surging wave of agony. Just the strange feeling of having something sharp run through your flesh and the nauseating sight of his skin pulling itself open with every tiny breath he took.

The taste of bile filled his mouth, but he didn’t dare to gag or cough, fearing to open the wound even more. He felt even colder than before, wishing he was at least wearing a shirt so his shoulders would be warm and he had something to stop him from puking all over himself.

_ohgodimaginationpleasedontgothere_

“Rick,” he yelped, voice still sounding strained, “What the heck are you d-doing to me?”

“Relax,” was the only answer he got. Rick put the scalpel aside, red blood now smeared all over the blade and reached for a thin silvery tool that looked a bit like salad tongs, only thinner and longer. An icy wave rolled down his body.

“R-Rick…” It wasn’t more than a hoarse whisper, “Rick p-please. This is insane, you’re scaring me!”

The thin tongs disappeared inside the deep cut and an overwhelming wave of sickness hit him. Morty choked and pressed his eyes shut. The pressure increased and his breathing got faster, which only made the feeling worse. When he opened his eyes again, Rick’s hand was shoved inside his stomach digging around his guts. His stomach knotted and the tiny, squishing sounds echoed in his ears much louder than they actually were. Still, there was no pain, but he could feel his insides move against Rick’s hand and suddenly Morty wished he was in pain to have something to disturb him from that haunting feeling.

He wanted to shake from disgust, but suppressed the urge to not worsen his condition.

“Rick…” he muttered with shaky voice.

“Shut the fuck up.”

He rolled his eyes back so he didn’t have to see all the small red splashes of red on his skin. He felt cold sweat run down his nape, shaking his head slowly from one side to the other.

Why was Rick doing this to him? He’d always been kind of a jerk but that topped everything he’d ever done to him or let happen to him. He grit his teeth at another sharp twist of Rick’s wrist and glared at him, fear and confusion melting to anger.

“Yo-You’re cutting me open and not even telling me why? No! No, this is- this is sick! Yo-You’re probably going to get me killed with that and I – I knew didn’t c-care about me!”

Finally, there was a twitch on the expressionless face. He felt Rick’s hands stop moving inside him and for a second, he could take a free breath without the sickening pressure on his guts. Then Rick turned his face slowly towards him.

His jawline tightened like he pressed his teeth together and his eyes narrowed at him, actually looking at him this time. Oh shit.

“What did you fucking say to me?”

Well, he guessed he was past the point of no return, right?

“Yo-You heard me,” he stated with fake bravery, avoiding Rick’s piercing gaze as best as he could, “You said it yourself. I-I mean the other versions of you did and… you’re just proving them right!”

Rick looked like he was about to punch him into the face. But just as Morty wanted to sputter an explanation, Rick surged forward and brought their mouths together, kissing him brutally. His teeth pulled at his lips, biting too hard and he forced Morty to open his mouth completely by shoving a bloody thumb between his jaws. His tongue rubbed against his, tasting faintly of whisky. It was hard to keep breathing like that, but Morty somehow managed and as Rick’s other hand suddenly wrapped around his cock and started stroking him, he made a needy sound in the back of his throat. Responding to the kiss as much as he could, he tilted his head to give Rick better access.

The finger slipped out of his mouth and wrapped around his neck, squeezing for a moment and with his breath stuttering, a shiver ran down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold. Rick grinned into the kiss and rubbed the pad of his thumb over the tip of Morty’s now fully hard dick.

When Morty whined at the pang of want spreading in his stomach, Rick pulled away and Morty looked down, seeing the tongs shoved in deeper into his guts than before. He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling with wide eyes, his feet curling in a mix of pleasure and fright.

Rick opened a drawer beneath the table with all the small metal gadgets and rummaged through it for a second before pulling out a bottle of surgical lubricant. Morty’s eyes widened and he turned his knees inward because he could only think of one thing happening with that.

“Are you being serious?!” he shouted, watching how Rick poured some of the colorless fluid into his palm and rubbed it over his fingers. His other hand already sneaked between his thighs, the rubber of the gloves sending a tingling sensation through him. It wasn’t unpleasant, fuck he wished it was, but for the first time since he woke up he didn’t feel only cold. Slight warmth spread in his lower abdomen when Rick’s hand nudged his legs apart as far as they would go, since he was still bound and even though he knew that this was fucking messed up, he bit his lips and let it happen.

_Oh gee, this is sick._

A lube coated finger pressed into him and he yelped at the pressure while Rick’s other hand untied the bond around his ankle. A gruff grunt came from Rick and the sound sent hot shivers down his torso. Morty gasped slightly, his leg being moved so Rick had better access to him with his hand.

He felt a soft glow cover his cheeks when Rick added a second finger a little too fast to have adjusted to the strange intrusion and he bit his bottom lip to keep a small, needy sound from slipping out. Rick’s gaze was still fixed on his face and Morty could see him grit his teeth, his chest heaving with his breaths.

“So you think I’m not caring about you?” he asked in a gravely dark voice that let heat lick over Morty’s skin and pool in his lower abdomen.

“I-I didn’t mean-“

“Well, but that’s what you said,” he hissed, shoving his fingers in and out of him. The muscles in his stomach twitched at the hot anticipation that created, the cut with the tongs still sticking out widening a tiny bit at the motion. Morty panted, still muffled by his lips, when suddenly, the sensation was gone.

Startled by the loss, Morty looked up, to see Rick shoving down the pants he wore under the apron, the outline of his hard dick clearly visible beneath it.

Morty clenched his fists, unable to touch, just lying there and having to let it happen. Oh fuck and how he wanted to touch. Rick had unbuckled his apron and now had one knee on the table, between Morty’s thighs, lowering his hips until their cocks brushed. He shivered at the friction and arched his hips into the touch as best as he could, given his current position.

“Rick,” he whispered, but quickly found a bloody glove covering his mouth.

“Shut up,” Rick repeated, reaching down for his dick and spreading the rest of the lube over it before pushing himself into Morty.

His whole body tensed. Small drags of air made it to his lungs, but it felt strained and forced, as Rick didn’t pause for him to adjust to the new feeling. He concentrated on the still present tingling on the inside of his thighs and the burning heat in his abdomen, the strain of his own hard cock against his belly.

Slowly, he brought his body to relax a bit, the pain melting away to lust as Rick started thrusting into him in earnest. He might have gone cross eyed for a moment, a loud moan escaping him when both of Rick’s hands grabbed his hips and pinned him down, fucking into him hard.

“You little dipshit, fucking needy slut,” Rick growled and fuck, that voice was doing things to Morty. He shivered in pleasure and pushed his hips up to meet the thrusts better, openly panting at the sparks of pleasure igniting with every slam of Rick’s hips.

Precome was smeared over Morty’s belly and his one free leg curled around Rick, urging him deeper.

“Faster,” he begged silently, making Rick purr deep in his chest.

“Want me to fuck you faster, you greedy little bitch? Begging for me to fuck you, eh?” With that, he pulled one hand away from Morty’s hips and instead placed it on his belly, close to the cut, putting his weight on it as he shoved his dick harder into him, making him see stars.

His heart hammered against his ribs almost desperately and the mixed feeling of the building pressure between his groins and the growing ache from having his insides being squeezed like this driving him crazy. He started feeling light-headed again, a burn sparking on the need to climax; to moan Rick’s name in lusty gasps and have him cum inside him. But with every thrust, the burn became sharper and less pleasant.

“And shut you the fuck up about me _nOT_ ”

Sharp pain surged through him and he choked, the air being stuck in his lungs. That wasn’t the thrill of being fucked against a table so roughly. That was the cut on his stomach and it started to hurt like hell.

“RICK!” he shouted loudly, only to be completely ignored.

“FUCKING”

He coughed, feeling hot liquid spill over his chin and the taste of copper flooded his mouth. His vision blurred and the stinging pain exploded in his brain, his eyes watering and tears mixing with the blood on his face.

“RICK”

“CARING”

“rick-“

“ABOUT YOU!”

Rick’s final thrusts send blazing agony through him, until the edges of his consciousness started to get fuzzy and numb. He tried to breathe deep but he only ended up coughing more, the bright red in a strangely beautiful contrast to the white tiles around him, until the color drained from the picture and only left a black and white shadow of the scenery imprinted into his mind. His thoughts slowed, ripped apart and scattered all across his mind, until the whirlwind of pain stopped and his thoughts came to a halt. His coughing subsided. Along with his breaths. Nothing was. Everything stopped.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Breathing heavily, Rick pushed himself away, looking over the body now lying motionless on the table. He cursed under his breath.

Well, so the anesthetic wasn’t sufficient. But the restraints were tight enough this time. Fuck and he had to work on his self-control. He couldn’t fucking risk more losses than he already made.

A gag might come in handy next time. Would at least spare him their fucking questions.

With a deep sigh, he pulled of his bloody gloves and tossed them into the open wound on its stomach. He’d deal with the mess later. Tomorrow. Any time but now.

A dull throbbing in the back of his skull told him he was about to get a serious headache. Pressing the heels of his hands against his temples, he made his way upstairs until he was in the garage again, locking the hatch and kicking the carpet over it carelessly.

Just as he flopped down in his chair at the crammed desk, he heard the door behind him open; the sound of wood swooshing over the ground, then hesitant footsteps. He rolled his eyes, not turning around.

“What do you want, Morty? I’m busy.”

“Oh, errr,” came the response, before he heard more footsteps and the voice came closer, stopping a bit behind his chair. He could almost picture him standing there: shoulders hunched, probably scratching his forearm as he looked down and thought about how to phrase whatever trivial concern had brought him here. Rick gave himself a small push with his foot and the chair turned around. What’d he say? Eyes cast down, arms crossed – pathetic.

“My time’s actually, you know, precious? Just spill!”

Morty looked up, sheepishly at first, his eyes quickly widening at the sight of him. “Oh my God, Rick! What- What have you done?! You’re covered in-in-in-“

“Blood, yeah, don’t worry, t’s not mine.”

“But why-“

“Not important Morty, sometimes you gotta get your hands dirty in the name of science.”

“Oh,” he responded softly, a blush appearing on his cheeks. Rick resisted the urge to grin at that – at least his Morty still shut up when he wanted him to.

It was always the same problem with the ones he’d gotten from other time lines or universes – having them paralyzed for only a few hours or maybe a day left them unharmed, but as soon as he used stronger chemicals to preserve their bodies for his later research, things got hairy. They somehow slowly diminished. Like the pieces of fruit on the bottom shelf of the fridge.

He thought about the others down there, secured in their glass tubes for later use. Maybe he’d get some data out of one of the others tomorrow. Today had been a total loss.

“Hey, err, Rick,” the squeaky voice asked after a moment of silence, breaking in the high tones he still talked in. The sound brought him back to reality and he blinked at Morty, who awkwardly rubbed his elbow, avoiding his gaze. Rick watched him with a bored expression, “You… You know how we used t-to… you know? Do stuff together? Like-Like travel through space and... and see all that crazy stuff, you- you remember that Rick?"

"Since I am _way_ more intelligent than you don't you think I remember a lot more than you do?"

Morty’s cheeks turned brightly red and he narrowed his eyes at Rick “Yeah, well, i-if you’re so much more intelligent then-then why not just tell me why we stopped doing that?”

A deep sigh came over his lips and he reached for the flask in his lab coat. “Pretty obvious, M-OOhhh-rty,” he grumbled, taking a swig from the sharp smelling liquid, “It’s because I don’t care about you.”

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is [Schierlingsbecher](http://schierlingsbecher.tumblr.com/) if you wanna chat or follow me <3
> 
> Also, feedback is always much appreciated ♥
> 
> Thank you for reading ♥


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